


When I Touch Myself (I Am Conjuring You)

by Atsvie



Category: Deadpool - All Media Types, Spider-Man - All Media Types
Genre: M/M, Masturbation, Oral Sex, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-16
Updated: 2014-05-16
Packaged: 2018-01-25 03:27:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,296
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1629074
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Atsvie/pseuds/Atsvie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Peter gets off and maybe thinks about Wade. Wade maybe turns up at the right place at the right time.</p>
            </blockquote>





	When I Touch Myself (I Am Conjuring You)

Sometimes Peter feels guilty about it, like maybe he should just go look up porn like every other teenage boy instead of letting his imagination run wild and actually use another person. Especially when that happens to be Wade Wilson. Which in his defense, has been the main source of all his sexual frustration lately and so this is really all his fault anyways.

But Peter isn’t going to exactly deny himself when he’s really fucking _hard_ and Aunt May is at work just because he can’t get Wade out of his mind—seriously, why does this happen to him—and feels a moral block because he definitely would have to look him in the eyes (or general direction because thank god for masks).

No one is ever going to know, he rationalizes with a slight bite of his bottom lip. The teenager relaxes back on the bed and exhales once he finally shoves down his jeans and wraps his fingers around his cock. Damn Wade and his stupid muscles and corded arms and low voice. Peter thinks he’s going to lose it whenever he just says his name—why did he let Wade figure out his secret identity again?—and feels all the more like a horny teenager that can’t control himself.

He runs his thumb over the slit with a small moan, his hand then falling to the base so he can work his way up. At this point he doesn’t care, he is wound too tightly because of him, because it’s like Wade doesn’t realize he’s driving Peter crazy and there’s only so much his teenage hormones can take. So he thinks of him, he imagines that the hand jerking his cock is calloused and larger.

"Wade," Peter gasps, lips parting and head tilting back.

Totally not caring anymore.

* * *

Knowing Spidey’s secret identity had really opened up a whole new world for Wade to kill free time with. Because now he knows where his house was and more specifically, where his window is. Which means that Wade has deemed it acceptable to grace him with his presence at random intervals via the window because he’s _bored._

'Yeah I really doubt he's going to be happy to see you.'

Wade rolls his eyes because of course Peter will be thrilled to see him. Or maybe won’t throw him out, he can really only ask for so much. Either way, he makes his way towards his window, balancing his footing on the roof because falling off his not in his agenda today.

'Uh.'

_'Hey dumbass look through the window before you open it anymore.'_

Silly voices, Wade knows exactly what he’s doing, he thinks, fingers under the window with a few inches pushed up. Curiously, he glances through and—oh. Well then. Wade freezes at the sight of Peter on his back, hand wrapped around his cock and god he’s practically writhing there on his bed as he gets off, face flushed and eyes squeezed shut. Apparently distracted enough not to notice the merc at his window.

'Is this your divine intervention telling you to get the hell out of here?'

Wade doesn’t really want to, honestly.

"Wade," Peter moans out, voice breathy and desperate and _oh._

_'I think_ that _was your divine intervention telling you to get the hell out of here.’_

Peter had just actually moaned his name, Wade thinks and feels as though his brain is going to short circuit if not for the voices that share that space. They seem more amused by this, which is evil because he’s freaking out a little and they’re not understanding why this is a huge deal.

Wade is a little lacking in the looks department—no really, he’s physically lacking things like hair and some skin. And when there are Harry Osborns out there with their nice hair and pretty complexions, who the hell would masturbate to Wade-monster-face-Wilson? Apparently Peter Parker.

So naturally this must be a dream. Because Peter is _attractive._ Not even just the fantastic spandex tight ass, no he has a pretty face under the mask and Wade would be all up on that if he had a chance.

'So him moaning your name isn't enough of a chance for you?'

_'Does God need to slap DIVINE INTERVENTION across your face before you get some of this or?'_

The damn voices have a point.

On one hand, he’s probably hallucinating and him jumping through the window to sex up the friendly neighborhood spidey will probably just end up with him waking up realizing he’s been trying to make love to one of his guns—’ _that was one time’—_

Or on the other, Peter is going to be super freaked out that Deadpool is watching him touch himself at his window and may attempt to literally throw him out the window.

But the more he listens to those breathy gasps and attempts to muffle his name, the blood drains from Wade’s face and he feels it all going south. He’s probably never been this hard in his life and it’s all because of this stupid teenager who is arching up into his hand and screwing his eyes shut.

Despite this being potentially the most dangerous decision he’s ever made—and that’s saying something—Wade clears his throat and opens the window the rest of the way, swinging a leg over the pane. “So uh, is now not a good time?” He starts despite ducking into the room and stepping toward him.

For someone with heightened senses, Peter nearly jumps to the ceiling at the intrusion. His hand is still on his cock, which is still hard, and his face blooms into the same shade as Deadpool’s suit. Peter yelps, stammering out his words, “W-What the heck? What are you doing get _out!”_

"Are you sure you want me out, baby boy?" Wade challenges smugly and  gestures to his persistent hard on. "I have it on good authority that I’m just the deus ex machina you wanted."

"Oh god," Peter groans, squeezing his legs together and covering his face, "You heard me. I’m going to die, this isn’t real. Which god did I piss off? Loki you there?" And he’s babbling and can’t look at Wade who is grinning giddily under his mask.

At least he hasn’t physically thrown him out yet. That’s a good sign.

"Admit it," Wade says lowly, his own arousal slipping into his voice, "You love that I heard you. You secretly wished I would hear you moaning my name, maybe if you screamed loud enough I’d come fuck you."

He’s stalking toward him, and Peter really could throw him out if he really wanted to. But he just stays seated on the bed, squirming more and more with his words. For the innocent doe eyes, Peter sure as hell has a rebellious streak in him. Wade just hadn’t thought it would apply to being a sexual deviant.

"Wade," Peter breathes and it’s not really clear if it’s closer to a moan or a protest.

"I’m right here, and I’m better than whatever you were imagining before. You can touch, if you want," Wade leans against the bed post and pulls off cocky damn well for someone who doesn’t even like taking his mask off in front of the mirror.

There’s an internal war that happens under about 5 seconds flashing in Peter’s eyes. It’s impulsive and wild and Wade really would have banked on getting his ass handed to him for this, but clearly he underestimated how turned on Peter is and how much that fucks with his decision making process. It’s obviously not that he actually wants Wade that much, that’s not a logical option, he tells himself.

But regardless, Wade gets pulled onto the bed with super human strength—‘Damn kid is gonna rip our arm off’—and finds himself on top of Peter who is looking up at him with this adorable flush like he can’t believe he’s actually doing this—which he probably can’t, to be honest—and a hunger that could actually be a little intimidating under any other circumstance.

"Touch me," Peter demands desperately, hands linked on the back of his neck, "Don’t even let me _think_ about this, just—just…just fuck me,” he rushed out the last phrase and it’s too much. Wade shoves the bottom portion of his mask up and isn’t one to hesitate when he kisses him hard. Peter moans against his lips, something like a sigh, and he’s so damn eager that it almost throws Wade off guard.

Wade forgets that he’s not always a pity fuck, and Peter’s enthusiasm is really helping solidify that. The way he pulls at his suit, pulls him down and worms under him—does this kid ever stop moving?—it’s driving him crazy. The kiss isn’t neat, it’s a back and forth force, it’s wet and there’s a little too much teeth to call it a _kiss_ anymore, especially with the way Peter’s tongue pushes its way into his mouth and he has to nip at it to get him to slow down.

He can feel how hard Peter is under him, and he thinks about how he was jerking himself off before that and growls into his mouth. Wade is a handsy guy, and he lives up to that trait with the way his hands wander, over the plane of his firm stomach, back to his ass where he grabs and thanks whatever god had condemned Peter that he has this opportunity to grind down on him, hands firm on his ass. This is a fucking religious experience, he thinks, cock straining against Peter’s in his suit.

It’s religious the way Peter moans his name into his mouth. So religious and god damned holy that Wade thinks he should get on his knees and pray.

He pulls back, Peter trying to grab him with a whine, and grins as he slides off the bed and onto his knees, “I’m gonna take care of you, baby.”

The full body shudder he gets in reaction is worth having to pull away. Peter is a smart kid, he knows what’s happening and scrambles to sit up so that Wade can slide between his legs and wrap his fingers around his cock. After a long moment, Wade leans forward and takes the head of Peter’s cock into his mouth.

He tastes good, clean if not a bit salty from the pre-cum, and Wade’s tongue is quick to lick around the tip, following every curve and vein down the shaft. Licking back up from the bottom, he glances up at Peter who is gripping the bed sheets and gasping for air, and begins sucking on the tip, careful not to let too much of his teeth graze his skin. And it’s filthy, because Wade is a mess and sloppy, wet sucks and pops from sucking on Peter’s cock resonate with the sound of Peter’s moans escalating in volume.

Wade loves this, loves how full his mouth is with Peter, how one of Peter’s hands move to the back of his head and push him down further, until he feels his cock hitting the back of his throat. And Peter keeps moving his hips, keeps thrusting into his mouth and Wade can’t help but reach between his own legs and push the bottom half of his suit down just enough to grab at his own cock. He’s absolutely getting off on Peter practically fucking his mouth.

"Wade," Peter’s voice is wrecked, and Wade just sucks on him so eagerly, because he’s lucky to even have this experience. "Wade, I’m gonna come," Peter says quickly, trying hard not to jerk his hips.

The only response he gets is Wade humming around his cock and his hand pumping himself faster. Peter repeats his name again before he’s tilting his head back and letting Wade swallow down his orgasm.

Wade is almost there, so fucking close, and doesn’t take his hand off his cock when he stands back up, using his free hand to wipe the spit and cum off his mouth. Peter is flushed and dazed and Wade thinks about fucking him, before deciding that they could save that for another time, because god damn does he want there to be another time.

"Let me," Peter says, muffled, swatting away Wade’s hand and replacing it with his own. It feels different from the rough, scarred skin; Peter’s hand is calloused but softer than his and his movements are a little erratic but it only take a couple of minutes of Peter looking at him with those clouded doe eyes and jerking him off steadily for him to come into his hand with a loud groan.

By the time he’s returning from the high, the room is colder and Peter is looking at him accusingly. Unabashedly, Wade throws an arm around him and doesn’t miss the eye roll he gets in return. “So you uh, wanna see a movie sometime?”

"You have that out of order," Peter snorts, tugging up a blanket over himself, "It’s a date then sex."

"Exactly. Let’s go see a movie and have sex," Wade explains, with a nod, "Not my fault though. You’re the one who had to go getting off and saying my name and shit."

"Yeah, yeah," Peter concedes, not seeming to really be too upset by the turn of events, "There’s only one problem with that plan."

Wade waits for him to finish and Peter just looks at him with this absolutely devious look, “That would require waiting to go on a date before we have sex again.”

'Oh.'

‘ _Oh.’_

"Oh."

Alright, so that whole going for idea may have been dangerous but definitely the best idea he’d ever had.


End file.
